


Every Storm That Comes (Also Comes To An End)

by halfsweet



Category: Fall Out Boy
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Ambiguous/Open Ending, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-24
Updated: 2015-10-24
Packaged: 2018-04-27 21:23:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,909
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5064691
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/halfsweet/pseuds/halfsweet
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Pete Wentz, a charming playboy, always breaks up with the person he's dating after they confessed their love to him. When he hires an orchestra for his upcoming event, he's determined to make the young violinist to fall in love with him and confess to him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Every Storm That Comes (Also Comes To An End)

**Author's Note:**

> Ah, I miss writing lengthy pieces. Hope you enjoy this one! Been working for this for almost a month.
> 
> Inspired by a scene from Leverage.

_"Why did you leave me? Did I do something, Pete? Baby, I love you, please don't leave me."_

Pete rolls his eyes as he ends the phone call. Yet another ex has called him for the umpteenth time that day, crying and begging to get back together.

He puts away his phone as he pushes open the door to the hall, where the orchestra team has arrived just that morning. It's afternoon now, and everyone is either having lunch or exploring the place.

Pete has only managed to see the conductor the morning earlier, discussing with him about his upcoming event. The rest of the players hadn't arrived yet by that time. Now that Pete has finally seen them, albeit only observing from a distance, one certain player catches his attention.

The player is the only person left on stage, and is keeping his violin carefully into its case and strolls over to the refreshment table, bouncing in his steps. With years of practice, Pete has gotten good at reading body languages, _reading people_ , in general.

And Pete would absolutely love to read the violinist. Maybe he can make the violinist to fall for him too.

Pete glances at his reflection in the glass, making sure to look as good as possible, before sliding up next to the violinist. First impression is important, and he needs to make a damn good impression so the violinist can fall for him.

"Hello there." Pete puts on his charming smile when the violinist turns around to look at him, a piece of bagel hanging off of his mouth. Pete chuckles inwardly at his goldfish-like expression. "I believe we haven't been acquainted with each other."

The violinist promptly takes the bagel from his mouth and shoots Pete an embarrassing smile, cheeks tinted red. "Sorry about that. I haven't eaten anything since this morning. You're Peter Wentz," the violinist smiles and holds out his hand for a handshake. "Thank you for hiring us for your upcoming event. We won't let you down."

Pete takes the violinist's hand in a firm handshake, taking note on the violinist's callouses fingertips. "I doubt you will. And please, just call me Pete." Pete flashes him another wide smile, squeezing the violinist's hand. "May I have the pleasure of knowing your name?"

The violinist lets out a small laugh and releases his hand from Pete's. "I've heard a lot about you, Mr Wentz. Perhaps you should find someone else to be your next arm candy." The violinist gives him a small wave before stuffing the bagel back in his mouth and walks away.

Pete stares at the violinist's retreating back, appreciating the view, and raises his eyebrows in amusement at the turn of event. He already knows he's going to have a lot of fun with him.

-

The next day when Pete walks into the hall, he sees the violinist by the refreshment table, gorging down on the snacks provided. He catches the sight of the conductor and walks up to him.

"Mr Wentz, is there anything I can help you with?" The conductor asks when he spots Pete.

"Yes, actually," Pete smiles, putting on his charm. "I was wondering if you can tell me about the violinist over there. The blond one."

The conductor looks to the direction Pete is pointing and breaks out into a huge smile. "Yeah. His name's Patrick. Patrick Stump, twenty five. Joined us as soon as he finished with his studies. He actually played with us a few times while he's still studying, and he looked like he needed money, so we gave him a spot."

Pete thanks him for the information and keeps his gaze on Patrick. What a fitting name. The conductor walks away, presumably to discuss with other players, and Pete makes his way to the violinist.

He clears his throat and hides his laughter when Patrick yelps in surprise. He swallows down the food in his mouth and eyes Pete, pursing his lips.

"Okay, so apparently the conductor saw what happened yesterday, and said that I should behave when talking to you, and I quote," Patrick rolls his eyes and speaks in a deep voice, "'you should always be good to the person who hires us to play'. Or grateful or something. Whatever."

Pete only watches in amusement as the violinist finishes with his mini rant. Patrick has a really nice voice, and Pete wonders how he would sound like singing. Or moaning and whimpering under him.

"So, uh, I'll start with an apology." Patrick clears his throat and outstretches his hand. "I'm sorry for the way I behaved yesterday. Would you still like to know my name?"

Pete smiles and shakes his hand, keeping a firm grip. "Sure."

"Martin." The violinist beams, his grin so wide it almost splits his face in half. "Martin Urie. It's a pleasure to be playing for your event, Mr Wentz."

Pete has to bite his lower lip to prevent himself from laughing out loud at the man in front of him. He can't believe Patrick can lie straight to his face. A chuckle escapes his mouth, and he decides to just play along.

"Nice to meet you, Martin. You seem awfully young to be in an orchestra. How old are you?" Pete asks, still holding Patrick's hand.

"I'm twenty eight, actually." Patrick laughs. "I get that a lot. I mean, people always say that I look young, but I'm really not."

"Of course." Pete raises his eyebrows in amusement. Now Patrick's lying about his age. Pete loves it when he catches people lying to him.

"Well, as much as I love talking to a charming man in front of me, I have to leave for work." Pete raises Patrick's hand to his mouth and kisses it, enjoying the red blush adorning the violinist's cheeks.

"But I'll see you again, Patrick Stump." Pete smirks as he watches colour drains from Patrick's face. He releases Patrick's hand and gives a small bow before walking away from the scene.

Pete really loves it, especially after he calls out their lies.

-

"You're absolutely amazing on the stage there, _Martin_." Pete praises him when he sees the violinist by the refreshment table _again_ the next day. Pete is slightly concerned at the rate Patrick is chomping down on the food.

Patrick turns to him and swallows the food in his mouth before answering. "Just Patrick, please." Patrick's face is burning red in embarrassment, and he avert his gaze from meeting Pete's eyes. Pete grins at the blushing violinist in front of him. Definitely. Patrick is _definitely_ going to be his new mark.

"Well, Patrick," Pete rolls of the younger man's name from his tongue, liking the way it sounded. "Why don't you make it up to me over a dinner?"

"Is fast food okay? I can't really afford anything else," Patrick looks up at Pete with a sheepish smile on his face. "Or instant noodles. I can cook a decent one."

Pete clears his throat and smiles. "I mean, go out on a dinner with me. My treat."

"Oh." Is all Patrick says, and a few seconds later, his face turns red all over again. " _Oh._ "

"Yes. _Oh._ " Pete chuckles at him, amused at how easily the violinist blushes and flusters when he was being so confident two days ago. "So I'll pick you up after you've finished with your practice?"

"I still need to change my clothes."

"We'll stop by your place," Pete assures him, and just because he wants to see Patrick blushes one more time, he adds, "and I've always wanted to know where an angel lives."

Instead of a red-faced violinist that he expects, he receives a laugh in return.

"Oh God, that's a terrible one." Patrick continues to laugh as he grabs one of the snacks on the table. "I have to go. Break time's over. But thank you for making my day with that awful pick-up line." He raises the cupcake he's holding as a gesture for goodbye and saunters back to the stage.

Pete smirks as Patrick leaves him. It seems like he got himself a wild card. Pete doesn't mind about it much though, he likes a surprise once in a while.

-

When Pete's finished with his work, he finds Patrick leaning against a wall just outside the hall and holding a container, violin case tucked under his arm. He walks towards the younger man and smiles when the latter spots him.

"Have you been waiting long?" Pete asks as he leads them to his car. The parking lot isn't full, but it isn't empty either.

"Not really. I had the catering team to talk to," Patrick grins and shows Pete the container he's holding. "They gave me some leftovers."

Pete lets out a small laugh as they got into his car, and he starts to drive to Patrick's apartment with his direction, making small talk along the way.

Patrick doesn't try to bluff his way this time, and Pete continues to tease him about it, liking the way the various shades of red colouring his face.

And Pete's surprised that Patrick doesn't live that far from his workplace. Just a mere fifteen-minute drive without traffic. He steps out of his car and follows Patrick into the apartment, making mental notes on Patrick's floor and his apartment number.

"Make yourself comfortable. I'll go change my clothes."

Pete gives him a nod as Patrick disappears into his bedroom, and Pete walks around the room, eyeing everything. There isn't much stuff in the room- it's almost empty, actually, and he wonders if Patrick's the type that doesn't care much about materials and possessions.

He moves to lean against the couch and books a restaurant while waiting for Patrick. With a reputation as big as his name, Pete manages to book them to an expensive restaurant, even if it's last minute. He's sure Patrick will fall for him faster this way. Just like everyone else. They're all after his money, anyway.

He places his phone in his pocket when Patrick emerges from his bedroom, dressed up in a pair of black pants and a simple button up.

"Is this okay?"

Oh, Pete can't wait to start the game.

-

"Mr Wentz, this is a little too much," Patrick says quietly from beside him, and Pete knows from Patrick's body language that the younger man is definitely uncomfortable being in a fancy situation, despite having played in a high-class event before.

"You can just call me Pete, you know."

Patrick doesn't say anything in return, just stares down at his lap and plays with the edge of the tablecloth.

Now, Pete knows how to deal with people that are like Patrick. To get their trust, to tear their walls down, all Pete has to do is to ask questions about them and just listen to them. Sweet-talking and flattery will get him nowhere, as proven when he tried a pick-up line on Patrick hours ago.

"Mr Wentz-"

Pete raises an eyebrow at the violinist, and his lip curls upwards when Patrick seems to realize his mistake.

"Pete," Patrick says with hesitation. "This is all too much for me. I'd rather if we just have a simple dinner."

Pete looks thoughtful for a moment, then opens his mouth to speak, only to close it when Patrick immediately cuts him off. "And by simple I mean cheap. A- a diner or something. Not a fancy restaurant." Patrick clarifies, looking down at his lap again.

Pete eyes him and leans forward in his seat. "Are you uncomfortable with this?"

"Yes." The violinist replies quietly, nodding and fiddling with the spoon on the table. Huh. This is a first. Pete has brought everyone he dated to somewhere fancy on their first date, and they all seemed to enjoy it without any complains.

Pete knows that half of them only dated him for his money, but he doesn't mind about it at all. Everything's worth it in the end when they cried and begged and pleaded for him to stay.

And oh how Pete enjoys every second of it.

"Pete?"

Pete snaps out of his thought and finds Patrick staring questioningly at him, worry lines making their presence on the younger man's forehead. He finds it endearing that Patrick is concerned about him.

"Would you like to go someplace else?" Pete asks, smiling when Patrick's face contorts in delight and relief. "Oh, God. Yes."

Pete props his elbows on the table and hides his smile behind his hands. He can already imagine the way Patrick will be moaning those words to him. "Where do you have in mind?"

-

"Here we are." Patrick beams at him when they've arrived at a small cafe, just a five-minute walk from Patrick's apartment. Pete almost laughs at the situation; it seems too comical for him.

"If you accepted my offer earlier, we'd be saving so much time driving."

Pete smirks at him and holds the door open for the younger man. He doesn't know which one he likes better; a shy Patrick, or a confident Patrick.

"We spent those times getting to know each other, so I wouldn't call it a waste," Pete grins charmingly at him.

Patrick lets out a huff of amusement as he leads them to an empty table. Pete assumes that it's Patrick's spot, seeing how Patrick slides into the seat and makes himself comfortable. Pete takes a seat across him and takes the menu, scanning through them.

This is the first time he's been to a place that's cheap. Almost too cheap, perhaps. Pete has eaten a snack more expensive than all of the prices on the menu combined.

"Haven't seen you here in a while, Patrick." A waitress greets them, hands on her hips and a friendly aura radiating from her. No wonder Patrick likes it here.

"Sorry, E," Patrick smiles bashfully at her, "you know how it is."

The waitress rolls her eyes and takes out a notepad to take their order. "It's _fine_ , Patrick. I told you I'd treat you, didn't I? It's the least I could do for my favourite customer," the waitress winks at him, and is that a blush Pete sees on Patrick's face? Pete frowns and clears his throat, alerting his presence.

"Oh! S- sorry!" Patrick stutters as he tears his gaze away from the waitress to Pete. "Uh, what would you like?"

Pete would very much like for the waitress to go away. He can't make his moves on Patrick if Patrick has his eyes on someone else other than Pete. A waitress, _very classy_ , Pete scoffs.

"What do you usually have?"

"Well, just a plate of sandwiches," Patrick grins, scratching the back of his neck.

"And a glass of _iced water_ ," the waitress adds, wrinkling her nose in displeasure. "Even if it's on the house. Can you believe that?"

"Lisa, please," Patrick whines and covers his face with his hands in embarrassment. Pete's quickly growing to dislike the waitress.

The waitress, or Lisa, that's what Patrick calls her, laughs and pats his shoulder, her hand lingering a little too long.

"We'll take the specials," Pete says loudly, interrupting their moment. The waitress seems to snap back to reality as she stands up straight and jolts down Pete's order in her notepad. "Anything else, sir?"

Pete doesn't glance at her, just stares at Patrick's still flushed face. "Do you want anything else, Patrick?"

"Just the usual," Patrick smiles at the waitress. The waitress smiles back at him, and Pete swears to God he sees Patrick blushing yet again when the waitress walks away.

"Oh, God, that's so embarrassing," Patrick groans as he props his elbows on the table. "Don't mind her, please."

"Who is she?" Pete doesn't mean to make it sound harsh, but he just can't help it. The waitress is stealing Patrick's attention away from him.

"That's, uh, that's Elisa. She- she's very nice, and a really good friend of mine," Patrick explains, smiling toothily at Pete. "And she's really awesome! You know, this one time, we were-"

Pete hates her already. This is supposed to be his night- his time to shine, his time to woo Patrick off his feet. But instead, not even less than five minutes, the waitress has somehow managed to turn Patrick into a blushing mess and direct all Patrick's attention to her.

"Do you like her?" Pete leans back in his seat, crossing his legs under the table. Patrick stops in his story to gape at Pete, then laughs heartily, body almost bent over the table in laughter.

"That's a good one, Mr Wentz." Patrick continues to laugh and wipes the tears from the corner of his eyes. "I do like her, but I just don't swing that way. In another universe, perhaps."

Pete may have calmed down slightly at Patrick's answer. He can still have Patrick's attention him, and he doesn't have to compete with the waitress- _Elisa_ , for it. Joe and Andy will have a good laugh if they ever found out about it.

He relaxes in his seat, feeling content. "I thought I told you to just call me Pete."

"It- it's not appropriate, Mr Wentz," Patrick stumbles on his words, traces of laughter disappear in favour of a blush, and he takes a tissue from the dispenser and begins to fold it. "You're my employer."

Now it's Pete's turn to laugh. Honestly, Patrick is just too adorable for words, and Pete almost has second thoughts about making Patrick his new mark.

"All of my employees call me Pete. Trust me. You don't have to worry about it being inappropriate," Pete assures him.

"Your food and drinks, sir." Elisa places their food and drink on the table, and Pete doesn't even realize when she has arrived.

"And your usual." She turns to Patrick and grins. "Made with love. Enjoy."

"You know I always do." Patrick grins back and hands the tissue he's been folding to her. "A flower for the lady who makes my sandwiches with love."

Elisa laughs and takes the tissue flower before leaving them alone to eat. Patrick begins to eat his sandwich merrily, and Pete, on the other hand, is frowning in his seat.

Did Patrick just flirt with the waitress? _While_ Pete Wentz is sitting across him?

The nerve. Pete is so going to break his heart, crush it and shatter it to pieces. That'll teach him.

"Hey, aren't you eating your food? They're delicious. Trust me." Patrick pushes his plate of sandwiches in Pete's direction, urging for him to take one. "Try it. Lisa makes great sandwiches."

With a sigh, Pete grabs one from the plate and eats it. And Pete hates to admit that it's actually pretty good. "Yeah, it was okay."

"I know, right?" Patrick beams and continues to eat. Pete pushes his plate towards Patrick and props his elbow on the table, resting his head in his hand. "Have some."

Pete sees the hesitant in Patrick's eyes, and he just smiles. "Don't worry. Just eat it. I won't mind."

He watches as Patrick takes a bite out of his food- a burger. Pete doesn't know what makes it a 'special', but he figures it must be delicious since Patrick is moaning in absolute delight. "That's probably the most delicious food I've ever eaten."

Pete, at this point, is bewildered by the young man in front of him. It's just a simple burger, and a decent one at that, but he makes it sound like it's the most delicious food in the world. "You've never eaten anything other than their sandwiches before?"

Patrick swallows down his mouthful of food and wipes his mouth with his thumb. "I can't really afford anything other than the sandwiches here," he confesses, voice quiet, and pushes the half-eaten plate of sandwiches away from him. "I can't even afford anything, really."

The violinist slumps down in his seat, shoulders hunched, and there's a certain tone of sadness in his voice. Pete had thought that Patrick was just joking when he said he couldn't afford anything.

"What do you mean?" Pete finds himself asking, intrigued by the younger man's background.

"I don't really have a lot of money. The money that we get from performing isn't much, anyway." Patrick sighs, taking a sip of his drink, and mumbles from the rim of the glass, "I can barely manage to pay my rent and bills, and if I do have extras, it's only just enough to buy their sandwiches."

"And that's not the most pathetic part," he continues with a bitter voice, but a smile is still on his face. Pete furrows his brows in concern. Just what could be worse than not having enough money to buy food?

"All of my clothes are hand-me-downs from my brother. Almost everything I own are from my family," he finishes softly, then looks up at Pete with an apologetic smile. "Sorry, I didn't mean to turn this into a pity fest."

"Don't be. Although, why don't you find another job? The orchestra can be your side-job," Pete suggests, but Patrick just shakes his head and smiles.

"Music is important to me. I just can't see myself doing anything other than the orchestra, even if it's just a part-time job." He chuckles dryly. "If I have to starve on the streets, then so be it."

Patrick goes back to eating his food, and Pete observes him quietly. The dedication Patrick has for music and the fact that he's struggling financially because of it leave Pete in confusion. _Does Patrick really doesn't care much about his financial state as long as he can play music?_

And Pete has also finally understood the reason Patrick spends most of his time by the refreshment table during breaks. Free food is probably a heaven sent to someone like Patrick.

He nudges for Patrick to eat his burger, and smiles when Patrick shoots him a grateful look complete with awe. Whatever happens, it still doesn't deter Pete's decision to make the younger man to fall for him.

-

Pete's life easily falls into a new pattern after he met Patrick. He would go to his office in the morning, and when it's almost lunch time, he'd go to the hall where the orchestra ensemble is having their break as well.

Sometimes he'd eat with Patrick in the hall, and sometimes he'd take Patrick out for lunch. Everyone seems to notice their closeness, but no one questions anything. Pete does notice the glares he's been receiving from Patrick's friend, but pays no heed to him.

Today, Pete spends his lunch break in the hall, trying to persuade Patrick to sing. He knows with that voice, Patrick can sing anything.

"I don't sing," Patrick argues, mouth turning to form a pout. "I just- I don't, okay? I play instruments, I don't sing."

"Fine, fine." Pete relents, knowing that nothing can convince Patrick to sing. "Play me something."

"That I can do." Patrick beams as he tunes his violin, humming a tune under his breath.

Placing his hands in the pockets of his pants, he relaxes and watches as Patrick takes a deep breath and prepares to play a piece. Patrick places the bow on the strings, and begins to play a soft melody.

Pete doesn't really pay attention to the song Patrick is playing, he gazes at Patrick's face instead. The younger man has his eyes closed and a small smile on his face, which makes Pete smile and sends his heart fluttering. Of all the people that Pete has dated before, Patrick is one of the very few that Pete actually enjoys spending time with.

And those very few are the ones that Pete enjoys breaking their hearts the most.

Joe and Andy have asked him before on why he breaks up with everyone when everything seems to go well, but Pete doesn't know how to tell them that he only dates them and breaks up with them to make himself feel good.

"There you go. A private concert just for you." Patrick stucks his tongue out at Pete playfully when he's finished with his piece and places his violin on the table.

"A private concert by a _lovely violinist_ just for me." Pete quips, grinning when Patrick rolls his eyes at him. "So, why did you decide to play violin?"

"This violin," Patrick says softly, staring at the violin sitting on the table with fondness in his eyes. Pete watches as Patrick brushes his fingers over the violin gently, as if it's something fragile and delicate.

"This violin belonged to my brother. He played it since he was a kid, and I admired him a lot for it." Pete listens attentively as a soft smile makes its way on Patrick's face. "But he quit playing, saying that he got bored of it and had no time to play. So, he passed his violin to me, and I cherished it ever since." Patrick finishes with a small chuckle and glances at Pete, and immediately flushes under his gaze.

Pete just smirks at Patrick's red face before turning serious again. "Do you think you'll quit music someday? For good?"

Patrick's melodic laugh chimes in Pete's ears, and it sends his nerves tingling. He brushes off the feeling and nudges Patrick on the side to get his attention.

"When hell freezes over," Patrick says in between his laughter. "I'd never quit music. I practically _live_ for it. There's just no way I'd ever quit music."

-

Days and weeks pass by, and Pete really enjoys his time with Patrick. Joe and Andy know about him, but haven't met him yet, although they have been asking to meet him multiple times before. And Pete, for some unknown reason even to himself, is reluctant to introduce Patrick to them, which confuses him immensely, since he always shows off his partner proudly at his friends.

He pushes the thought away as he gives his attention to the younger man sitting next to him, slumped down on the couch in his house. It's not the first time Pete has brought Patrick to his house, and he is slightly disappointed that Patrick didn't get the hint the first time he brought the violinist to his house.

When Pete invited Patrick to his house for some coffee, he didn't mean it _literally_.

"Tell me your dream."

"I want to travel the world and be a successful musician someday. Just imagine, you can play your music to everyone while travelling." Patrick answers, eyes lighting up in happiness, which slowly dulls in sadness. "Too bad people don't really pay attention to this field. They only care about doctors and lawyers and all those sorts."

Pete understands what Patrick's talking about. Musicians, poets, writers don't make much money compared to doctors, lawyers, and politicians. In fact, Pete doesn't think they can survive long without resorting to another field.

"In another world, you're probably a successful musician with record-breaking albums," Pete smirks at him, and Patrick laughs in return.

"And you're probably a professional soccer player, always winning match after match." Patrick teases him, poking at Pete's side. Pete grabs his finger and laces their fingers together, looking at Patrick intently. The playful atmosphere around them quickly dissipates.

"And maybe we're together in that world."

Patrick opens his mouth to lick his lips, and replies with a whisper, "Maybe."

"Maybe." Pete echoes, still locking his gaze with the violinist.

"Do you think, maybe, in this world…?"

Pete smiles and raises his hands to cradle Patrick's jaw, resting his forehead against the younger man's. "Do you?"

Patrick's eyes flick up to meet Pete's timidly. "Y- yes?"

"So do I." Pete chuckles when he hears a sigh of relief from the violinist and gives him a kiss on the cheek.

"God, that has got to be the most intense moment-"

A bray of laughter erupts from Pete's chest as Patrick lets out a high-pitch squeal in the middle of his sentence when he picks the latter up and throws him over his shoulder.

"Pete! For the love of God, put me down!"

Pete just grins as he holds Patrick tightly, careful in not letting him to fall down, and makes his way to the bedroom. Patrick seems to resign to his fate as he stops hitting Pete repeatedly on the back in an attempt to be put down.

"There's no way to win against you, is there?" Patrick huffs.

"Not really." Pete laughs and opens the door to his bedroom, and lays Patrick down gently on his bed. Patrick looks up at him from the bed, a soft smile playing on his face and eyes shining wide.

A sense of calmness washes over Pete at the look of the younger man's smiling face. Pete can almost feel like he's floating on air, his body light and free from all the troubles and burdens and secrets he keeps inside.

He moves to sit on the bed and cups Patrick's jaw, thumb brushing his cheek gently. Patrick leans into his touch, his previous smile has slowly subsided, cheeks turning pink.

Pete keeps his eyes on Patrick, watching his every move just as Patrick is watching his. He can see Patrick darting his tongue out to wet his lips and swallowing, anticipating.

He leans in and hears Patrick's hitched breath, and stops just before their lips can brush against one another. In their close proximity, Pete can see, hear, and even _feel_ Patrick's reactions. It feels so much different than reading people. It feels like he's _in tune_ with Patrick. Synchronised. He knows Patrick's reactions because he's feeling them himself, and the sensation thrills him down to the spine.

Patrick bites his lip, and without any second longer, Pete closes the distance between them, his mouth on top of Patrick's, and slides his tongue in when Patrick parts his lips in surprise.

His lips are what Pete expected them to be, soft and full and a little chapped.

Pete relishes in the soft little sounds that Patrick makes, and he can feel desire crawling under his skin, spreading throughout his body and demanding for more.

He suppresses down the desire, no matter how much he wants the younger man. He needs to make it slow, needs to make Patrick to want him first. He pulls away slowly and feels Patrick's warm breath on his skin, and he just wants to lean in and kiss him again.

Pete climbs into the bed and settles himself next to Patrick, while the latter chuckles and wraps his arm around Pete. "That was nice."

"Just nice?" Pete teases him, pinching his nose and laughing when the younger man slaps his hand away.

"Nice," Patrick nods and grins up at him, then his face softens, "considering how I've almost forgotten what it feels like to kiss someone."

Pete shifts them into a more comfortable position before finally registering Patrick's words. "What? When was the last time you were in a relationship?"

Patrick shrugs and buries his face in the crook of Pete's shoulder. "Can't remember. But it's been a long time. Three, four years, I think."

Pete is more than surprised at Patrick's little revelation. He has an inkling that Patrick isn't in any relationship when they met, he just doesn't expect for Patrick to be single that long. "What happened?"

"We burnt out, I guess. He's busy with his stuff, and I was busy with mine. It was a mutual break up, so no hearts were broken." Patrick sighs in contentment when Pete continues to play with his hair.

"You've never looked for anyone in all those years?" Pete continues to ask.

"Never bothered," Patrick yawns while answering, eyelids beginning to droop. "I can focus more on the orchestra this way."

Pete hums in understanding, although still perplexed at Patrick's lack of love life. Then he remembers what the younger man mentioned minutes ago. "What would you do if someone breaks your heart?"

Patrick purses his lip, thinking. "Well, I'd try to forget them, I guess. Move on with my life."

"Yeah?" Pete raises an eyebrow, playfully nudging and tickling the younger man at his sides. Patrick laughs and shoves him away, pausing for a second to take a breath before answering Pete.

"Yeah. Break off all ties with the person. Pretend they don't exist."

"Oh, wow." Pete breathes out, gaping at the younger man snuggling up next to him. "That seems… a little harsh?"

"Is it?" Patrick tilts his head upwards to look at him and blinks. "I think it fits. I mean, why should I waste my time with someone who breaks my heart, right?"

Pete says nothing in return as he rakes his fingers through Patrick's hair, dropping the subject. He always leaves the person he's dating after they confessed their love to him, not contacting them even once, so he doesn't know whether he should feel relieved or bothered with Patrick's answer.

-

So they've known each other for almost a month and half, and been officially dating for two weeks. The intensity and the amount of glares he's been receiving from Patrick's friend also increases tenfold.

And Pete can't remember having to wait this long until he can finally, _finally_ sleep with Patrick.

Pete swallows the younger man's moan and pulls back to see Patrick looking disheveled- hair tousled, lip bruised, and pupils blown. He leans in again, pressing his mouth on the curve of Patrick's neck, trailing kisses and small bites.

He feels Patrick's fingers tugging slightly on his hair, and he gives one last kiss on the side of Patrick's neck before straightening up.

"Pete…?"

Pete doesn't even bother trying to hide his smile at Patrick's hidden question. "Do you want to move this to the bedroom?"

Patrick doesn't say anything, just stares at his feet and gives Pete a small, shy nod. Pete places his hand under Patrick's chin, tilting his head upwards, and kisses him slowly. When they break apart, he tangles his hand in Patrick's, pulling him to the direction of his bedroom.

He guides Patrick to his bed, pushing him down on his back gently as he continues to kiss him. Patrick is clutching at his shirt, and Pete takes the hint to pull his shirt off. He leans in again, peppering kisses on the younger man's jaw, and slides his hand under his shirt, caressing the soft skin.

He moves back to look at Patrick when he feels Patrick placing a hand on his chest. "What's wrong?"

"I, uh- it's been a long time since…" Patrick trails off, averting his eyes to look at the bedsheet.

"You- really?" Pete asks and stares at him in disbelief. "Not even one night stands?"

"Yeah. I- I, um," Patrick clears his throat, still not looking at Pete, "I'm not the type to do one night stands."

Even in the darkness of his room, Pete can clearly see blood rushing to Patrick's face, coloring it scarlet. He thinks the colour suits the younger man well.

"Don't worry." Pete kisses the tip of Patrick's nose, smiling when Patrick turns his attention back to him. "I'll be gentle."

-

Pete wakes up the next morning earlier than Patrick, and instead of getting up, he stays in his bed, tracing the small bites and marks he left that stand out against Patrick's pale skin.

Patrick soon stirs awake and rubs his eyes before slowly sitting up, the haze of sleepiness still surrounds him, which disappears when he groans in pain.

A deep chuckle escapes Pete's mouth as he moves his hand to Patrick's back, rubbing gently at his tailbone. "You okay?"

The younger man makes a noncommittal noise and nods slightly. "What time is it?"

Pete pauses to grab his phone by the bedside and checks the time. "Almost seven. Still early. Want to go out later after practice?"

"Sorry. Already made plans with my friend. Come by my place tonight?" Before Pete can give him an answer, Patrick lets out a groan of realization. "Oh, God. My friend is literally going to kill me."

"What's wrong?"

"I was supposed to go to his place yesterday." Patrick says, running his fingers through his hair and messing his hair up even more. Pete smiles at the sight of it.

"Don't you have to go to work?" Patrick asks, and Pete can tell from the hesitation in the younger man's voice that he's torn between getting up or laying back down on the bed.

Pete grins and throws an arm around Patrick's waist, pulling him down and pressing him against his chest, nuzzling his neck. "I'm the boss. They'd never question me." He smiles when Patrick lets out a soft and contented sigh, almost like a purr.

"I still have to get back though. I need to change my clothes before I go for practice."

"Patrick," Pete clicks his tongue and continues, "you talk as if I don't have clothes. You can just wear mine." Smirking, he leans forward and whispers in Patrick's ear. "Besides, you can fit with whatever's mine just fine."

He laughs when Patrick's face turns crimson all the way down to his body. "Pete!"

-

"God, Patrick, where have you been? I'm worried sick about you! You weren't at your place last night!"

Pete turns around and sees Patrick's dark-haired friend running in their direction and starts to turn Patrick around, as if checking for any injuries. "You're not hurt, are you? Kidnapped? Mugged?"

Patrick's soft giggles reach his ears, and Pete can't help but to feel relax. It's weird; he has never felt this way towards anyone he dated before, but he just shrugs it off, figuring that maybe he's just tired.

"I'm fine. I stayed the night at Pete's." Patrick answers his friend, his previous giggling has subsided to a smile. "Practice started yet?"

"No, we're still waiting for some others to arrive." Pete arches an eyebrow in question when Patrick's friend gives him a suspicious look. Pete doesn't like the look at all.

"He didn't do anything to you, did he?" Patrick's friend continues, frowning at Pete. Pete glares at him right back, the kid already getting on his nerves.

Patrick releases his hand from Pete's to rub his friend's shoulder. Pete notices the dark-haired kid relaxes considerably when Patrick has his hand on him. "I'm fine, aren't I? Come on, let's get ready."

Pete turns around to leave, and is surprised when he's pulled back by the elbow. He stops in his track and cocks his head to look at Patrick, who's biting his lip in hesitation. The younger man stares up at Pete nervously before quickly pressing his mouth to Pete's cheek.

"I l- uh, good luck in the office," the younger man mumbles in embarrassment and scuffles off with his friend. Pete raises his hand to touch the place where Patrick has just kissed him, and a smile carves its way on his face. He turns back around to go back to his office, whistling all the way.

-

"Hi." Patrick smiles up at him when Pete arrives at his doorstep that night.

"Hi." Pete grins at him, leaning down to peck him on the lips before straightening up and entering the dim apartment, the only source of light being the television playing on low volume. "Did you have fun with your friend?"

"I did," the younger man nods and settles himself on the couch, turning to watch the television. Pete makes himself comfortable next to him, slinging his arm around Patrick and pulling him close.

Neither say a word for a period time, just enjoying each other's presence and watching whatever show that is playing on the television. It's only an hour later that Patrick turns off the television, making the room silent and darker.

Pete places his hand in Patrick's hair, brushing lightly against the scalp as Patrick cuddles up next to him, resting his head on Pete's chest.

"How long do you think it takes for people to fall in love?" Patrick asks quietly, voice muffled by Pete's shirt.

After spending more than a month with Patrick, Pete is no longer a stranger to Patrick's sudden and random questions that seemingly come out of the blue from time to time.

"Depends, I guess. Some take minutes, some take years," Pete answers, his heartbeat increasing as he realizes where this might be going.

Patrick doesn't say anything for a while, and Pete doesn't push anything. Silence settles between them again before Patrick breaks it.

"Do you think people can fall out of love?"

Pete tilts his head to look at the violinist. He takes back what he said earlier. He doesn't know where this is going.

"What do you think love is?" Pete asks back.

"Love is…" Patrick trails off, and Pete motions for him to continue. "…abstract? Like, love can be in different forms. I love my family, I love music, mostly because they've been with me since the beginning."

Pete nods and plants a kiss on Patrick's head, smiling when Patrick falls lax next to him. He can tell that Patrick has more to say, so he keeps silent.

"And loving something that has never been a part of my life before terrifies me," Patrick mumbles. Pete hums in question and casts the younger man a look of befuddlement when Patrick detaches himself from Pete.

"Especially if it's within a short time," Patrick continues and rubs his arms up and down. "One month is a short time, but…"

"But, Pete," Patrick takes a deep breath, biting his lip. "Pete, I think I'm in love with you." His eyes soften as he gazes at Pete, and he continues to whisper. "I love you, Pete."

"Patrick…" Pete breathes out, moving his hand to rest at the back of Patrick's neck, and pulls him close until their lips are pressed together, kissing him. He pulls away and leans his forehead against Patrick's, staring into the younger man's wide and hopeful eyes. "Patrick, you're so naive."

 _Hook, line, and sinker._ A smug look is plastered on his face when Patrick pulls back from him, shocked and confused and surprised all blend into one. "W-what do you mean?"

"You don't honestly think I'd fall for you, do you?" Pete smirks, enjoying the look on Patrick's face. He loves this moment. He can feel his ego boosting, bigger than ever before, at Patrick's earlier confession. It makes him feel good.

"Oh, come on. You knew about my reputation since the beginning. Don't tell me you didn't see it coming." Pete scoffs when Patrick doesn't say anything. "Don't feel bad, 'Trick. You're not the only one that feels the same way. There are others just like-"

His head snaps to the right when a powerful blow lands on his jaw. He raises his hand to the corner of his mouth, feeling blood on his finger. He slowly turns his gaze to look at the violinist.

Patrick's chest is heaving from anger, his eyes glistening wet and fist clenched tight. "Get out," he hisses, voice breaking. "Get the hell out of my place."

Pete lets out a sigh and stands up to leave, raising his hands in mock surrender. "Okay, okay. You don't have to get so pissy about it."

When he reaches the door, he tilts his head to look at Patrick. The younger man has tears pooling in his eyes, ready to fall any second. Pete has enough experience to know that this is the part where he's supposed to wipe the tears away.

He makes a motion to do just that, but Patrick bats his hand away with force. "Don't touch me," he chokes out. "Just leave already!"

He wonders if it's sick of him for finding pleasure in watching people cry because of him. "We can still spend time together, though. I have to admit, you're the best among them all."

"I hope one day, when you fall for someone, the same thing will happen to you," Patrick spits, face red with anger, hand gripping around the door knob.

Pete just chuckles and waves him goodbye. "Whatever you say. I'll see you tomorrow, 'Trick. It's really nice knowing that you love me."

He shrugs nonchalantly when Patrick shuts the door with a loud slam, and he walks back to his car. Pete really did mean what he said to Patrick; it's nice to know that Patrick loves him, that other people can love him. It makes him feel like he still can be loved, no matter how problematic he is.

But that doesn't explain why he feels so uneasy when he leaves Patrick's apartment.

-

Pete strolls into the hall the next morning, hands stuffed in the pockets of his pants as he looks for Patrick. He wonders how Patrick would react if he sees him. Pete normally doesn't see any of his exes again after they broke up, but since Patrick is playing for his event, they have no choice but to see each other.

And Pete is curious to know how Patrick is holding up after last night's event.

He stops in his tracks when he sees the violinist on the stage, sitting all by himself on one of the empty chairs. A few other players are chatting with one another and tuning their instruments, and the rest still has yet to come.

Even from far away, Pete can still see and read Patrick's expression and body language like an open book. He knows Patrick is still angry at him, not that Pete minds. He can't remember just how many angry exes he has.

He takes note on how Patrick bites his lip in an attempt to stifle his yawn. Patrick probably didn't sleep the whole night after Pete left, and Pete feels bad for him. To make up for it, he decides to walk up to the younger man and have a conversation with him, just to see how the violinist is feeling.

He takes a step forward and another, and stops when Patrick's dark-haired friend comes to sit next to him, a cup of coffee in one hand and a doughnut in another.

"Breakfast." The friend states simply, but Patrick makes no motion to take either of them. He turns the violin in his lap and plays with the strings idly.

"Seriously, Patrick. Breakfast. You're going to faint if you don't eat anything."

"I'm not hungry, really." Patrick sighs and places his violin on his shoulder, one hand hovering the bow just above the strings, and starts to play.

The friend keeps quiet the entire time Patrick's playing, and Pete's heart tugs at the melody. It sounds so… _sorrowful_.

He watches Patrick quietly from his spot, not moving an inch since the beginning. There's something about Patrick that seems different, and Pete just can't pinpoint what it exactly is. And Pete doesn't like it when he can't read people.

As Patrick finishes playing, his friend puts down the coffee and the doughnut on another chair and moves to rub Patrick's shoulder, pulling him close until Patrick rests his head on his shoulder.

They're exchanging words quietly with one another, and Pete doesn't have to try hard to know that they're talking about him.

-

Pete comes again in the afternoon to check on the preparations- the orchestra, specifically. He didn't get the chance to talk to Patrick in the morning, so maybe he has a chance now, seeing that it's lunch time for everyone.

The first place he searches is the refreshment table. He remembers Patrick spending most of his time by the refreshment table, eating to his heart's content. It saddens Pete that Patrick literally lives for music. If he has no performances booked, then Patrick has nothing to eat, and no money to buy any necessities.

Patrick isn't by the refreshment table, much to Pete's disappointment. Just as he turns around to leave, his ears catch a familiar sound by an all too familiar instrument.

He stares from afar as Patrick plays his violin, a small smile decorating his face, while his dark-haired friend hangs off of him, belting out the lyrics to what Pete assumes is Bohemian Rhapsody.

He leans against the wall behind him, crosses his arms, and continues to watch the pair playing and singing the song together, accompanied by the instruments from the rest of the players. Pete can tell that everyone have good relationships with one another.

And Patrick looks like he's enjoying himself, as if he didn't get his heart broken the night before. Pete suddenly feels glum that Patrick doesn't look too torn up about it.

 _"I see a little silhouetto of a man,_  
_Scaramouche, Scaramouche, will you do the Fandango?_  
_Thunderbolt and lightning,_  
_Very, very frightening me."_

"Come on, Patrick. You know you want to." The dark-haired guy pauses in the song to grin at the violinist, wiggling his eyebrows for effect. Patrick smiles sheepishly at him and continues to play, and Pete smirks. He already knows Patrick will never sing in front of anyone, and nothing can make the younger man change his mind. His smirk is, however, soon immediately wiped off of his face as his jaw drops in shock.

Patrick joins his dark-haired friend, singing along to the song together without much resistance. Scratch that, without _any_ resistance.

 _"Galileo! Galileo!_  
_Galileo! Galileo!_  
_Galileo Figaro!_  
_Magnifico!_

 _I'm just a poor boy, nobody loves me._  
_He's just a poor boy from a poor family,_  
_Spare him his life from this monstrosity."_

Pete stands gawking, eyes wide at the pair. He can't believe it doesn't take _any_ persuasion from the dark-haired kid for Patrick to start singing. In public. _Out loud._ Hell, they're singing as if they were in a musical, what with them spreading their arms and all.

Patrick's dark-haired friend continues to sing the next line in the song, and Patrick sings in between the lines.

 _"Easy come, easy go, will you let me go?_  
_No, we will not let you go! Let him go!_  
_We will not let you go! Let him go!_  
_We will not let you go! Let me go!_  
_We will not let you go! Let me go!_  
_Never, never let you go_  
_Never let me go, oh!"_

Patrick drags the last note as his friend continues to sing the next part of the song.

 _"No, no, no, no, no, no, no!_  
_Oh, mama mia, mama mia!"_

Pete unconsciously pulls his hand to form a fist when Patrick turns to grin at his friend, cheeks flushed, his arm slung around his friend's shoulder as he belts out the next line.

_"Mama mia, let me go!"_

Patrick and his dark-haired friend finishes the song together, both panting and breaking out into heaps of laughter at the end.

"You have to admit, that was pretty awesome." The dark-haired friend smirks, catching Patrick in a headlock and ruffling his hair. Patrick laughs and nudges him with his elbow. "Yeah, okay. That was pretty awesome."

Patrick's friend releases him from his headlock and smiles at him. "See? You're laughing already. That guy's not worth your tears, Patrick."

Patrick quickly sobers up and pulls his friend into a hug, whispering something that Pete can't make out the words to.

Pete turns to leave the hall, a frown marring his face. He doesn't understand the weird feeling rumbling in his chest, but all he knows is that he doesn't like it when someone else makes Patrick smile and laugh.

-

"What's going on?" Pete frowns at the noises caused by the orchestra when he enters the hall. Usually when he arrives to check on them, they have already started practicing.

"Mr Wentz," the conductor greets him. "I truly am sorry for the ruckus, but your event is only two weeks away, and we need to find a new replacement for our violinist. We have no one else to do his solo part."

Pete furrows his brows and the corner of his lip is pulled downwards. That's Patrick's position. Patrick wouldn't quit halfway, even if he's mad at Pete, would he? "Why would you need to replace Patrick?"

"There's been an accident." The conductor sighs and wipes his forehead. At the look on Pete's alarmed face, he immediately adds, "it's nothing fatal or serious. He just won't be able to play for a while."

"What happened?"

"We were walking to the bar yesterday." A voice comes from Pete's left, and Pete turns to face the person- Patrick's dark-haired friend. He always sees them together, but he has never bothered to learn his name. Pete nods as a gesture for him to continue.

"A pregnant woman fell off the stairs, and Patrick managed to catch her in time. The woman was fine, but he's not," he frowns in displeasure. "His wrist is broken. He's staying at the hospital right now."

"Which hospital?" Pete asks, slightly worried at Patrick's wellbeing. A broken bone is something serious in his book.

"Why do you care?" The guy replies and walks away, shoving Pete's shoulder roughly in the process, and Pete detects a hint of hostility in his voice.

"I'm so sorry about him," the conductor apologizes to Pete. "Brendon's a really nice kid. He's never like that. He's probably just on edge that Patrick's at the hospital. They're very close with each other."

Ah, Brendon. Now he has a name to put to the face. "So, which hospital is Patrick staying at?"

"The nearest hospital from here. But he will be discharged in a few days, perhaps you can visit him at his place then," the conductor smiles comfortingly at him, but soon starts to fret again about finding a new violinist.

Pete leaves them to their issues and moves on to check with the other preparations, his mind still lingering on the violinist. Why didn't Patrick tell him about his condition?

-

It's been days since Pete found out about Patrick's misfortune. He goes to the hospital everyday, but can't bring himself to enter and ask for Patrick's room number. It's not that Pete doesn't want to see him, he just doesn't make it a habit to see his exes ever again.

Maybe Patrick can be a one-time exception. He can check up on the younger man at his place when he's discharged.

He focuses his attention back to the conductor in front of him, who is currently informing him of their progress. Pete vaguely remembers the conductor telling him that they've found Patrick's replacement, and Pete is more than dismayed about it. How can they find Patrick's replacement so fast? What would Patrick say if he finds out that he can be so easily replaced?

Pete is startled at his train of thoughts. Since when did he start to care about his _ex_?

He quickly returns to reality and nods as the conductor walks away, and he turns around to leave when he's met face-to-face with Patrick's dark-haired friend.

"Did you know that Patrick was released from the hospital yesterday?" Brendon asks, a grim look on his face.

"That's good, then." Pete replies offhandedly and side-steps him, only to stop dead in his tracks when he hears what Brendon says next.

"You know, if you hadn't broken his heart in the first place, Patrick wouldn't have gone out to the bar, and he wouldn't have gotten his wrist broken," Brendon glares at him. "It's your fault, Mr Wentz. It's _your_ fault Patrick broke his wrist."

-

Pete raps his knuckle on the door, doubling over to catch his breath. Taking the stairs consumes less time than the elevator, but it uses up a lot of his energy too. He bangs on the door again, repeatedly, until he hears the sound of the door being unlocked.

He glances up, and his mouth goes dry at the person in front of him. "P-Patrick…"

Patrick looks surprised for a moment, but manages to regain his composure and narrows his eyes in anger, jaw set tight.

"You have the nerve to show your face in front of my door after what you've done."

Pete swallows and stands up, grabbing the door frame for support. His eyes flick over to the cast on Patrick's hand, and a wave of guilt crashes over him. _He's responsible for Patrick's broken hand._

"I- I've heard," Pete stutters. "About your hand, I mean. I'm sorry."

Patrick snorts and makes a motion to close the door. "That's nice of you. Bye."

"Wait!" Pete braces his hand on the door, not letting it shut. "I want to apologize. I- I was wrong, and I shouldn't have done that. I didn't mean to play you like that."

He sees the sadness in Patrick's eyes, which quickly disappears in a flash. He has never seen Patrick with such coldness in his eyes before, and it unnerves him greatly. "You have nothing to apologize for. It's not your fault. It's all mine. I apologize for falling for you."

"Patrick, I really am sor-"

Patrick slams the door shut, and Pete doesn't get to finish his sentence as he stares at the door in front of him. He presses his hand on the door, and knocks it once again.

"Patrick, I'm sorry for all this. I don't know how to make it up to you. But I hope you'd still come to the event."

Pete sighs when he doesn't hear any answer, or any sound at all, from behind the door. It doesn't take a genius to know that Patrick is still furious at him, but he still hopes that Patrick can find it in himself to forgive him.

-

"You're better than this, Brendon." The conductor sighs as the rest of the players pause to stare at him.

"Look, j- just give me a second. I'll get it right again. I promise." Brendon scowls, eyebrows knit in concentration, and starts to play Patrick's solo part. Pete listens with full rapt attention, already memorized how Patrick's part goes, and sighs in disappointment when it's played out of tune.

Brendon lets out a frustrated sigh, and Pete can see it in his body language that Brendon is stressed about something else, and it's affecting his performance.

"The event is less than two weeks away, Brendon. If you can't play the part, we can just find someone else to do it. You don't have to pressure yourself."

"I _can_. You know I can." Brendon insists, looking up at the conductor, pleading. "I just-"

"Is this about Patrick?" The conductor interrupts, and Brendon noticeably stiffens before drooping his shoulders in defeat, nodding wordlessly.

"I know you're upset about this. We all are." The conductor walks over to him and pats his shoulder. "But we need to respect his decision."

Decision? Pete looks up at the rest of the players. Everyone has a somber expression on their faces, and he's finally aware of the tense atmosphere between all of them.

He decides to make his appearance, startling some of the players. The conductor gives him a nod in greeting. "Is something the matter, Mr Wentz?"

"What decision were you talking about?" Pete questions, straight to the point. The conductor exchanges a look with everyone, all turning to each other and breaking out into soft murmurs, and looks back at Pete with a resigned look glued on his face.

"Patrick just quit the orchestra."

-

Patrick doesn't even invite Pete in when Pete arrives at his place. He opens his door just wide enough that Pete can only catch a small glimpse of the interior.

"You quit." Pete states bluntly, one hand pressing against the door to prevent the younger man from closing it. "You quit the orchestra."

"I fail to see how that's any of your concern."

"Patrick, you told me music is your life. Music is what you _live_ for," Pete says in a rush. He needs to get Patrick back into the orchestra. He'd be damned if Patrick quits because of him, directly or indirectly. He's already feeling guilty about Patrick's broken wrist, and he can't handle another guilt if Patrick really quits music.

"Well, I don't live for music anymore," Patrick mutters bitterly. "You can leave now."

"Patrick." Pete stops him, and he can see the hesitation in Patrick's eyes. "At least tell me why you decided to quit."

And in a flash of a second, fury replaces the hesitation in his eyes. "I can't really do much with a broken bone, can I?" He hisses, pointing to the hand in the cast.

Patrick's voice is dripping with venom and self-deprecation that Pete flinches at the bitterness of it. This isn't the Patrick that he knows. "A broken bone isn't that bad. I- I mean, you can still play after it's healed again, right?"

"Tell that to the doctor," Patrick snorts disdainfully at him.

"You- you can't- Patrick-" Pete splutters, words caught in his throat as he tries to push the words out of his mouth. "You can't give up just like that!"

"Why bother?" Patrick frowns. "It's going to get worse again."

"You can't just quit music!" Pete fights. He knows he doesn't stand a chance against Patrick in their argument, but he would do anything to get Patrick back into the music scene. He doesn't know why he's adamant about it, he just knows that it feels like something he should do.

"Excuse me? I can't?" Patrick repeats his words back, eyes narrowed. "I _can't_? I can't grip anything without being in pain! I can't even use my hand for a simple task! My hand is useless, Pete! Just who do you think you are to tell me what I can or _can't_ do? You weren't even there in the first place! Where were you when my wrist was broken?! Where were you when I was at the hospital?! Where were you when the doctor said I had to go for _surgery?!_ "

Pete flinches at Patrick's last sentence. _Patrick had to go for surgery?_

The younger man is breathing heavily after his outburst, chest heaving up and down, veins prominent on his neck and face red. He has never seen this side of Patrick before. He would have thought that Patrick's not capable of being furious, but the younger man seems to defy every perceptions Pete has of him.

Pete swallows before replying. If he says one word wrong, Patrick may just get angry again, and Pete doesn't want to find out what will happen if Patrick is pushed to his limits. "I'm worried about you, Patrick. No one's looking after you, and-"

"Don't bother." Patrick quickly cuts him off, wiping his eyes with his forearm, and Pete detects the slightest hint of tears in his eyes. "Don't pretend that you suddenly care about me just because I'm injured. Go home, Pete. I'm tired."

"Patrick, listen-"

" _Leave_ , Mr Wentz. I still have enough money to file for a restraining order if I have to."

"Physical!" Pete blurts out in desperation. He refuses to budge, and he wants to keep talking to Patrick, wants to redeem his mistake and get his forgiveness. "You can get physical therapy, and you can play again. Just don't quit music."

"I'm already having enough trouble to pay for my rent, my student loans, and the hospital bills. What makes you think I can afford a physical?" Patrick asks calmly, but Pete can tell from his voice that his anger is returning back full force, and that the younger man tries to hold back his anger again with the way he's gritting his teeth and clenching his jaw.

Pete knows about Patrick's financial problems, and playing in an orchestra doesn't really make much money for him. Added to the fact that his wrist is broken, Patrick might have just lost his one and only source of income.

"Patrick," Pete calls him, voice soft so as to not make the younger man to become more angry. "I can get you a personal caretaker. Set up appointments for physical. I'll pay for everything. Rent, loans, everything. It's the least I could do for what I've done."

"I'm not a charity case." Patrick growls and clenches his fist. Pete can see Patrick's fingers twitching from the hand in the cast. He's getting more and more worried about Patrick's broken wrist; Patrick shouldn't let his hand rests by his side, it's supposed to be elevated.

"If you really want my forgiveness, turn back time to when my hand wasn't broken. Only then will I consider forgiving you."

For the second time that week, Pete finds himself being slammed by a door in his face. He gazes at the door, a heavy feeling settled in his stomach. Patrick has every right to be mad at him, and Pete deserves every ounce of anger from the younger man.

He drags his feet downstairs, feeling just as heavy as last time, and walks out the door. He's about to unlock his car when something enters his peripheral vision.

He turns to look at the garbage can near the building, and there it is, sitting on top of the pile of trash, Patrick's violin- _broken in half._

He picks up the battered violin and stares at it sadly. Patrick was being serious. He really did quit music. Pete swallows down the lump in his throat, fingers brushing gently over the broken instrument.

"I'm sorry…"

-

Ever since Pete found out that Patrick has quit music, he lies awake all night, a heavy burden of guilt and regret preventing him from getting any sleep. He hasn't visited and contacted Patrick for four days now, and he already feels anxious and unsettled about the younger man. _Is he doing okay? Does his hand still hurt?_

His eyes flits over to Patrick's broken violin he found the other day. He keeps it as a reminder for him for what he had done, the aftermath of what he had done. Patrick's friend was right, and his words keep ringing in Pete's ears.

_"It's your fault, Mr Wentz. It's your fault Patrick broke his wrist."_

Pete Wentz breaks people's hearts. He doesn't break people's bones and dreams.

He lets out a sigh as he turns his gaze to a piece of paper in his hand. It's an invitation card for his event that is only three days away, and he's planning to give it to Patrick some time before the day of his event.

Despite what happens between them, he still wants Patrick to be at his event, whether as an entertainment or as a guest.

With his mind made up, he gets up from his seat and grabs his car key, fully intend to go to Patrick's place. As he drives his way to his destination, he begins to have second thoughts about it. What is he going to say when he sees Patrick? Would Patrick even want to see him?

He finds it weird and funny that he's willing to go this far just so he can see Patrick, _his ex_ , again. Even when they've broken up, Patrick still continues to amaze him.

Stepping out of his car, he trudges his way slowly into the apartment lobby and to Patrick's floor. He can't help but feel like he's going for a death sentence, the dread feeling settling itself comfortably in his stomach.

He takes a deep breath and raises his fist to knock on the door, but stops just mere millimeters away.

He's going to see Patrick again. Patrick is just on the other side of the door. He suddenly feels nervous at the thought of seeing him again. Maybe, _maybe_ Patrick needs more time to himself.

Pete shakes the thought away as he steels himself, remembering the reason he decides to come to Patrick's apartment in the first place. He fishes out the invitation card from his pocket and stares at the name written on it.

_To Patrick Stump_

With a small and defeated sigh, he crouches down and slides the invitation card under the door, and leans his forehead against it, closing his eyes. He hasn't seen Patrick in a few days now, and he can't understand the inexplicable urge to see the younger man. It's something he has never experienced before. It's almost as if-

It's almost as if _he misses Patrick._

-

From the day Pete sent the invitation card to Patrick until the night of his event, Patrick doesn't contact Pete at all regarding the invite. And Pete doesn't contact him either, thinking that maybe Patrick needs his space.

The only problem is it's been a week since he has last seen Patrick. He knows the younger man must have seen the invitation card, and Pete had made sure the card has his name written on it. 

It's been an hour into the event, and the hall is filled with guests, but not the one that Pete is expecting. He puts on a smile on his face, greeting some of the guests around him, and continues to look for Patrick in the crowd.

"Pete!"

He turns around when he hears his name being called by a familiar voice. "Andy." Pete nods in greeting, and sees another person behind coming towards him. "Joe. Hey, thanks for coming, guys."

"Yeah, sorry we're late. Traffic," Joe explains briefly and takes a sip of his drink. "Feeling good tonight, Pete?"

Joe's question enters his ear and exits another as he continues in his search for Patrick. Pete has already went around the hall twice in the span of an hour. He should've seen Patrick by now.

"Pete, hey, looking for someone?" Andy asks, furrowing his eyebrow at his friend.

"Patrick," Pete starts, "Patrick's supposed to be here, but I can't find him anywhere!"

"Maybe he's not coming," Joe shrugs nonchalantly and adds, "you're always so sure that he'd come. What if he doesn't?"

"He will." Pete interjects quickly, sending a glare in Joe's direction. "Patrick will come." Pete states firmly, daring Joe and Andy to say otherwise, but he knows it's just an attempt to convince himself of the fact that Patrick's not coming. A pretty futile and useless attempt. Deep down, Pete already knows Patrick will never come.

He turns to look at the stage and frowns. Brendon is preparing for his solo part in the performance. _Patrick's solo part._ And Patrick is supposed to be on the stage, or next to him.

The air around him begins to feel hot and stuffed, and Pete unbuttons the first two buttons and loosens his tie. The first note is played, and Pete starts to feel uneasy. This is wrong. Patrick's the one who should be playing on the stage.

"He's playing it wrong," Pete grumbles under his breath, not really expecting for his friends to hear.

"Just relax and enjoy the performance, Pete. You've done a lot to get this event going smoothly," Andy says to him, but Pete continues to fidget in his place, sweat beginning to form on his forehead despite being in an air-conditioned room.

"I can't! Everything's all wrong here!" Pete fusses, playing with the cuffs of his sleeves. "Patrick is supposed to be up there! On the stage, playing his solo part. Not this kid!"

"Hey, now. I think the kid's pretty good." Joe chimes in as he turns to look at the stage, where Brendon is in the middle of a solo violin performance. "I mean, I've never heard Patrick playing before, but you've got to admit this kid's good."

"It's just a solo part, Pete. Anyone can play it. Give the kid a chance." Andy says lightly, enjoying the music.

"It's not _just_ a solo part." Pete lets out a frustrated sigh and runs his fingers through his hair, tousling them in the process. Andy and Joe will never understand why it's important for him to see Patrick on the stage, playing _his_ solo.

"It's so much more than that. You're bringing life to the piece you're playing. You're making people listen to the story you're telling without words. It's…" Pete pauses in his words, and his eyes soften as he gazes towards the stage. "It's the way he plays them. The way he puts emotions in them. The way he turns something lifeless into something so _alive_. You can hear everything when he plays. The happiness, the loss, the regret…

"And it's the way he puts a smile on people's faces. The way his body moves when he laughs. The way he stuffs his face whenever there's free food," Pete stops to chuckle as he remembers the first time they met. Patrick lied about his name so easily that Pete couldn't help but to laugh at the look on Patrick's face when Pete said his real name.

He swallows down the lump in his throat and releases a shaky breath, and continues with a small voice. "It's the way he always looks so passionate when it comes to music. The way he always carries himself. The way he makes everyone feels so calm. It's the way-" Pete chokes out a sob and laughs, wiping the tears that are threatening to fall from the corner of his eyes, "…the way he can still smile and laugh even after I broke his heart."

"…and that's why he needs to be on the stage tonight. No one can replace him." Pete finishes quietly as he rubs his eyes with the heel of his palm. "God, I don't even know why I'm like this."

Andy and Joe share a look with each other before turning to look at Pete. "That's because you love him, Pete."

That simple statement seems to set something within Pete ablaze. He looks to his friends with his eyes wide, realization dawning upon him. "I…"

"You love him." Andy says slowly, smiling. "Patrick. You love Patrick, Pete."

"I love him." Pete states, his eyes still wide as he comes to terms with the fact. "Oh God, I love him. I've been an asshole, but I love him. I love Patrick. I need to tell him that."

"Well then. You better go get him." Joe grins as he bumps Pete's shoulder. "We can handle the party. You go find Patrick."

-

Pete rushes out of his car as soon as he reaches Patrick's apartment, drenched in the heavy rain as he makes it to the lobby. Instead of taking the elevator, he makes a detour and heads straight to the staircase, hand gripping tight to the railbar as he runs up two stairs at a time.

There's nothing else on his mind but Patrick. He's willing to get down on his knees and beg and confess his feelings to the violinist. He doesn't care if people can see him begging for forgiveness in front of Patrick's door, all he cares about is Patrick.

He nearly stumbles on his feet when he reaches the fourth floor, and he continues to dash to Patrick's place, not stopping even for a second to catch his breath.

"Patrick! Open up! I need to talk to you!" Pete bangs on the door, shouting for his name over the loud drumming of the rain outside. This is it. He's going to see Patrick again and get him back. He bangs on the door again and twists the door knob.

Pete frowns when the door doesn't open. He turns the knob again and knocks on the door. "Patrick! I know you're in there! Open the door!"

"Are you looking for Patrick?"

Pete stops knocking and turns to look at the next door neighbour, wiping the rain water from his forehead and panting heavily. "Yeah. Is he inside?"

The neighbour creases his forehead in confusion. "Oh. You didn't know? He moved out last week."

He can feel his heart stops beating when he hears what the neighbour has just told him. He didn't know Patrick moved. He didn't know Patrick moved _a week ago_.

He looks down at the door and sees something sticking out from under it. Crouching down to pick it up, he finds that it's the same invitation card he slid in a few days ago. He recalls back to the day when he had last visited Patrick. Patrick only opened his door slightly, and even though Pete couldn't see much anything past Patrick, he could've sworn he saw stacks of boxes in the middle of the room.

_"I'd try to forget them, I guess. Move on with my life."_

_"Break off all ties with the person. Pretend they don't exist."_

His throat tightens as he tries to steady himself, heart pounding fast and loud in his chest. Patrick can't be gone. Patrick still hasn't forgiven him yet. "D- did he say where to?"

"Uh, come to think of it, no." The neighbour answers, scratching his head. "Sorry, man."

Pete nods as the neighbour retreats back, closing the door. This can't be happening. He knows Patrick's still here. There's just no way Patrick can be gone without saying anything to him. There's so much Pete wants to say to him. Confessions. _Apologies._

_"If you really want my forgiveness, turn back time to when my hand wasn't broken. Only then will I consider forgiving you."_

With a shaky hand, he pulls out his phone, thumb scrolling down fast for Patrick's contact number, and presses the phone next to his ear. There's a click sound in the speaker, and Pete's heart drops.

"Patrick-"

_"We're sorry. You have reached a number that has been disconnected or is no longer in service."_

**Author's Note:**

> I legit can't write a long angst fic without it sounding so much like Make It Easy/Never Lit A Match. And, apparently, I also can't write a lengthy fic without Brendon ~~being stuck in the friendzone~~ making an appearance. 
> 
> Am I going to continue this? I have no idea. But feel free to come up with your own ending! I'd love to know what you think happened after it.
> 
> And please do leave comments! (I somehow have a feeling that they're all going to be angry ones :/ )


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